


The Unfortunate Ones

by skiiish367



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Character Death, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Harry, Violence, Zombies are also called Unfortunates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:48:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skiiish367/pseuds/skiiish367
Summary: "Wait. You knew them?!" There is a long pause, before the girl continues, voice far too mature for her age "Like...personally?""I knew all of them," he murmured, unsure if he could trust this child. "At least, I thought I did. Once. A long time ago.""What were they like?"A crumpled smile found its way to his lips and he let out a small chuckled, sounding more like broken sobs than laughter. He leaned closer to the little girl, whispering as though he were telling a secret. "They were going to change the fucking world."And around them, the world burned.





	1. Not Like the Movies

_‘My name is...’_

Her name? She supposed it really didn’t matter much matter much now. Back at the hideout, it was the only thing that they could could grasp onto and call their own. The only real thing, that reminded them they were still alive, breathing... _surviving_.

Funny, now that she put her mind into it. Her fingers convulsed, the marker slipping past her bruised fingertips, and falling onto the floor, the sound barely audible to her own ears. The snarling, shrieking of the freaks, only a door from breaking away had filled her head. It was almost like music, a melody. Flowing so gently in with the air, putting her mind into a daze. A feeling....music that only she...or rather the unfortunate ones could hear. And an unfortunate never lived long enough to play their soundtrack. _Her_ soundtrack.

She wanted to laugh. Laugh so badly, but all that would escape her parted lips was a pained groan. So she allowed herself a smile. Lips wavering, threatening to falter back to their plain ol’ frown.

Her friends wouldn’t like that. They liked seeing her smile, even if it was in this hellhole. Shaking, she wobbled up onto the soles of her blistered feet, her legs trembling with every stretch of her bones.

Black hair drenched in blood and matted to her face. She brushed them back with a convulsing hand careful not to let any of the blood fall into her eyes or her mouth. She let a shaky breath, and moved along the wall, trying to make way to an exit. She had to survive. Survive.

That was her life’s purpose. To survive, or die trying. Another step along the wall, and her legs turned to jelly, pain shooting up from her ankle all the way to her pelvis. Broken foot. Not good. No-it..it wasn’t good at all.

She let out a cry of despair, as the doors from the other side of the warehouse burst open. The unfortunates sweeping in, tongues sticking out like slobbering dogs in a heat. Stumbling on their feet, climbing on top of each other, in a race to see who could get to her first. _So much hate_...all for her, and the melody grew slowly reaching its climax.

She broke.

So when that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Sobs to incoherent cries for help poured from her mouth like vomit.

“No no no no no NO _NO!!_ ” she sobbed, curling up tighter into a ball. “PLEASE! _PLEASE!!!_ ”

The unfortunates were drawing nearer, and she gripped onto her weapon. A small handgun, with only a bullet left. It trembled in her hands, threatening to fell just like the marker from before. Closing her eyes, took a broken breath, placing aim to the gun.

Her eyes looked out to find a window...any window. _None._ She let out a small chuckle, sounding more like gasps for air, and coughs. Huh, it seemed even when she was going to die and unlike the movies, there would be no last look to the sky. No last bask of sunlight, or a tree...or chocolate or grass or the smiles of her friends or kisses or the last piece of gum she’d saved for later or late-night walks or the night or the moon or stars or....or _the ocean._

Just big black nothingness, and the melody playing by the unfortunates. It was getting louder. She could hear the snarling and the gurgles. The shrieks and screams that drowned her own. The head of the pistol pressed deeper into her forehead, and she closed her eyes, trying to imagine the setting sun of the Cuban beaches. The waves of water rushing up to her ankles as her feet sunk slightly into the sand. The breeze dancing through her wet hair, as the salty smell of the ocean would engulf her senses. And the sunset. _Oh, the sunset._

It’d be beautiful. Coral skies, with small brushstrokes of white as though they were angel wings. A bright yellow sun, basking its warmth to her skin, and for a moment it was as though she were truly there. Breathing in the fresh ocean air, and basking in the sunlight. The ghost of a smile graced her lips, and she pressed harder on the trigger. So close.

She’d have to do it before the moment ended. Before the sun disappeared, and she returned back to the warehouse. She has to do it. It’s a cowardly way out, but she’s scared and broke and terrified and...and hopeful.

“Please..” she whispered, not sure to whom... _or why_. Maybe to the unfortunates to get them to spare her, or maybe to someone else out there. A survivor, that could hopefully save her. The sun was disappearing over the ocean, the last streaks of light shooting out like stars, piercing her eyes. This was it. The moment was going away.

When she was younger, she loved the idea of heroes. Of happy endings. The ones in the movies where the hero kisses the girl, and they live happily ever after. They never did show what happened after that, but it was nice to believe that nothing came after that. That that was it. Where it ended. Where everyone iss happy, and loving. And there is no evil queen to ruin it all.

Seemed nice when she was younger, but she was learning. Late maybe, but as her final moments were drawing closer, she was beginning to see the lie. It was an inconvenient truth. Something she, nor anyone else could ever change. There was never any happy ending. _Not for her._

And as the final specks of sunlight crossed over the horizon, she pulled the trigger, fading away into nothing.

_Big black nothing._

 

_-o-_

 

“We have to go, Blaise!!” Draco yelled in a hushed whisper, tugging at his friend’s torn sleeve. “ _We have to go._ ”

Blaise didn’t seem to hear. He seemed almost lost, as though he could not hear what Draco was saying. “BLAISE!”

The other boy gasped, and turned. Streams of tears, and puffy red eyes. His face wrinkles in an ugly manner. “S-she’s–” he paused, unsure as what to say. He looked broken, and Draco felt helpless.

He let his head drop, and stilled. It was a form of respect. A farewell. Draco didn’t know whether she was dead yet or not. Maybe she was still alive, hidden in a far away place that the unfortunates couldn’t reach. Maybe she’s dead. Or maybe she’d waiting...for them. For someone to save her, as her screams would be drowned in the hide of the unfortunates. Barely clinging on to life, as they would rip their teeth through her flesh, and she would scream. Scream and scream, begging for Draco and Blaise. Promising to be better, to never go out late again, to never lie to her parents. To be good, and listen.

The thought alone made Draco’s stomach churn, and twist. “P-please..we need–we need to go,” he stuttered, his words more a crackling whisper. Tears threatened to fall from his burning eyes, but he blinked them away. This was no time to be selfish.

They had to run, and soon.

Taking a couple steps forward, he smashed his bat onto one of the unfortunates, that was making its way to Blaise. It snarled, and reached out for his ankles from the ground. He stepped back, bashing at the head. It feeling never got old. The adrenaline rushing through his veins. Pulsing with every hit. With every sickening crunch of the bones. Guts spilling, and blood spilling out like a horror movie murder scene.

They were gaining up on him, and he didn’t know how much longer he could carry on. His arms aching with every blow, and swing of his bat. Sweat dripped down from his forehead to his chin. He didn’t dare to lick it. It could’ve been mixed in with unfortunate blood, and no way in hell was he going turn by drinking in his own sweat. No matter how much his throat craved it.

A woman...who would’ve been no older than his mother came charging at him. Her feet moving with an odd limp. Foot twisted behind her, with the bone jutting out from where her ankle should have been. She shrieked, no doubt trying to attract the attention of other unfortunates. Draco swallowed the bile back down, and didn’t waste time in swinging his bat once more. Her guts spilling out from the bite marks from her stomach as she fell, and scrambled for him.

Draco gasped falling back in surprise, the bat slipping away from his fingertips, and rolling away from him. The woman gained upon him, scrambling for him with her mouth gaping open, drool dripping out from her shattered teeth.

He scrambled backwards, trying to gain any distance between the unfortunate and him, but in no avail. His heart was thumping, words stuck at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to cry out for help, for someone. _Anyone._

_No one._

Just like there had been no one for her. Crying, he kicked at the freak, trying to get away from her grasp, but it was relentless, scratching and clawing out for him. Her eyes black, and soulless. And the hate. Gods, the hate.

The freak leaped onto him, and he punched it in a desperate attempt to get it off. Her mouth snapped open, coming down to him. Draco closed his eyes. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t. _He didn’t._

He didn’t want to end up like _her_.

Draco let out a choked sob, feeling the crushing weight on his chest. His lip trembled, and he froze. This was it. He was going to die, and her sacrifice would be for nothing. It would be nothing but a waste.

All for nothing.

Draco gasped, when he felt the unfortunate fall onto his body limp. He could feel its teeth grazing his shoulder, but not biting. Still....and unmoving.

Shots ran through the air, and he kicked the unfortunate off. He scrambled for his bat, and stood up, coming back to back with Blaise. The moved around in a circle, watching each other’s back. Trusting one another with their lives.

“Took you long enough,” Draco breathed out.

“Yeah,” Blaiss turned to give his a wide grin. Draco returned it, turning his gaze back to the unfortunates piling up on them, “Couldn’t keep you waiting forever, now could I?”

Draco snorted. “Guess not.”

 

_-o-_

 

Draco moved swiftly by the old house, Blaise following behind. They had long gotten away from the hoard of unfortunates. They’d rested, drinken the last of their water, and eaten the last can of beans. Neither of them dared to touch the final piece of gum that lay protected in the confinement of his pockets.

It was for her. Didn’t belong to him, or Blaise....it belonged to _her_.

Neither of them had spoken a word of the loss. They hadn’t known what to say. Didn’t know whether they were supposed to cry, or hug....or laugh. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt _whole_.

Turning his attention back to the window, he slowly crept up, peeking inside. It was hard to see. The sun was long down, and the lights of the house had been kept off, for the same reasons as them. Still, he knew there were people inside. He’d heard their whispers...the shuffling.

There were people.

Living. Breathing. _People._

Neither of them had seen another human other than their own pair in weeks. He turned to give Blaise a knowing look, but the raven only shook his head. “No,” Blaise whispered. “We...can’t trust them.”

Draco’s heart dropped the tiniest bit. Blaise was right. He’d always been right. They couldn’t _afford_ to trust them. They didn’t know these people’s intentions or _ways_. In this world, it was either kill or be killed.

At the best case scenario, they would be robbed of their weapons if caught. Worst case scenario? Cannibalism. It wasn’t uncommon. When food became scarce, and all stores were stripped of their good, people had started to resort to eating one another. First, it started with the animals. Their pets. Dogs. Cats. Hamsters. You name it. Then it came down to the mice, and rats. They were a bitch to catch. And when that all ran out...it came down to one another. The weakest in the group would be killed, and chopped up. Cooked...sometimes raw, and given to the others to eat.

Draco had never eaten another human before. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t deal with the guilt that would follow after that. He knew Blaise had though, even if he’d never actually admit it. Times were desperate, and Draco understood that. He didn’t blame Blaise. Just like Blaise wouldn’t blame him, if he were to do the same.

He gave Blaise a reluctant nod, and quietly removed the netting from the window, before getting to work on unlocking it. Unlocking the window hadn’t taken long. A couple pulls at the small gaps between the window frame with a couple twists of the notch, and the window slip open with ease. He motioned for Blaise to stay outside and keep watch. Blaise gave a small sarcastic salute, and disappeared around the corner.

Draco crept in from the window, careful not to knock anything over or make any noise. He wanted to go see these people. Wanted to talk to them. Make a bigger group, but that was always a risk. A risk that neither of them were willing to take.

He just had to go, get what they needed, and then leave. No diddly-dadling, or as Blaise called it ‘exploring.’ That was food, and water. He had no doubt the group residing here was big. Consisting of at least four people. Two men, and two women. Blaise and Draco had followed them in hopes to perhaps finding their base, or some food to steal, and find their base they did.

Well, it wasn’t really their ‘base,’ per say. Just a spot where they would stay for the night. Traveling during the night was dangerous. Unfortunates plagued even the emptiest of places, but that had never stopped Blaise and Draco. Traveling at night was the easiest for them. It kept them out of sight, and the sewer systems were a great route to get around the city. Unfortunates tended to stay away from these areas when the sun went down. They moved out to the open during the night. The behaviour was strange, but then again, when had unfortunates ever been normal?

Signing, he crept through the room, salvaging anything that could be of any use. He found a few clean t-shirts in the closet, along with a few pairs of pants. Too big for either of them, but good to keep them warm during the night. The blankets had been taken away from the bed. The group staying here must’ve taken them. He was ready to leave the room, when he caught the glimpse of a picture frame that lay shattered on the ground.

Crouching, Draco picked it up, wiping the dust from the cracked glass, and taking a good look at the photo. It was of a little girl. No older than eight. She was smiling brightly, a smile he hadn’t seen in years. Her tiny, pudgy arms were wrapped around whom Draco assumed was her little brother. The boy had a scowl on his face, facing away from the camera.

“ _What happened to you?_ ” he whispered, not really sure whom the question was for, or whether he expected an answer back or not.

Draco pulled the picture out from the frame, and folded it, placing it in the back pocket of his jeans. He’d hold onto it for now. Maybe he’d see this little girl someday, and then he could give it to her as a memory. Or maybe when all of this is over, he would put it up on a wall as a way to remember everyone. To make sure no survivor forgot about this young girl and her brother. So they could live on even if they were dead.

 _‘C’mon Draco...no time to waste,’_ Draco thought, sweeping out from the bedroom door, and down the hallway trying to find where the supplies would be.

He didn’t have to look far. They were kept in the room at the end of the hall, at the corner of the room, covered up lousy with a blanket. Draco allowed himself to grin in satisfaction. He quickly moved to the pile, and removed the blanket.

Water. So much water. Bottles, and piles of cliff bars, with a jar of peanut butter, and _so much more_. He hadn’t seen this much food in so long.

He stuffed a couple bars in his bag, along with a couple of bottles of water. Mouth watering, he made a grab for the peanut butter. He could already imagine it. The sweet greasy pile of fat, and protein, melting onto the tip of his tongue.

Draco swallowed, and put it into his pack, before zipping it up. He didn’t take everything. Hell, he took very little of what they had. It was rule number one. Take only what you need, and nothing else.

The rules had kept them alive for this long, and he doubted they would fail him this time. That’s when it hit him. His mistake. It was too easy. Far too easy. Rule number three, _‘If it’s too easy, don’t trust it.’_

Drac’s eyes widened, and he scrambled up, looking for an exit. This must’ve been a trap, and he had to get out. _Fast._ He had to warn Blaise, and leave. Now!

Fuck. There was no window in this room. They knew. They’d known all along that they were being followed. It all made sense now. No one was up on watch-duty. He hadn’t seen anyone. The food had been left unguarded in a room _without_ a window. It was too easy.

Draco fucked up.

Gripping his bat tightly, he walked cautiously for the door. They had to be waiting for him, and he just needed one moment of shock to slip by, and escape. He took in a deep breath, letting his mouth open slightly to keep his breathing quiet.

The hall was empty, and quiet. He knew they were waiting. Probably from him to waltz out from the room grinning like a madman. That was his opponents first mistake. Never expect things to be easy, and Draco sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy. He moved his bat, to hang out beside him, and moved his weight to one foot.

Rule number two, _‘Breathe.’_

Draco bolted. Sprinting past the hall, and back to the room where he first came from. He was close, so close to leaping out from the bedroom window, but something slammed into him, knocking him over. Draco kicked at the body, and swinging his bat wildly at the man. Black hair, and green eyes. Breathtaking and _frightening_.

The raven jumped back slightly, keeping his guard up, and careful to stay between Draco and the window. They weren’t going to let him escape easily, but then again, Draco hadn’t expected anything else. He had to act quickly, before the raven’s friends joined him.

“You aren’t going to escape.”

Draco grinned, baring his teeth out in the dark. “Think so?”

“Positive.” the raven stated, his face mostly dark from the lack of light, but the gleam of green in his eyes was unmistakable. _Determined._

“Guess, we’ll just have to find out won’t we?”

With that, he made a false charge for the raven. The other prepared himself. His hands were bare, no doubt ready to use his fists. The boy seemed unfazed with the knowledge of having no weapon, and his eyes narrowed in dangerous over-confidence.

Five years ago, Draco would have foolishly attacked at this man with no reconsideration or second thought, but that was five years ago and now was not back then. Draco was maybe half a meter away from the raven, and right before his bat made contact with those fists, he switched directions, sliding past the other’s feet, and making a charge for the window.

Draco didn’t get the chance to jump out though. The black-haired boy reached out, snatching his wrist in a crushing grip. The other, came around, and took a hold of the bat, pulling it back, and eventually forcing it out of Draco’s slim fingers.

Draco snarled, and dropped taking a swipe at the raven’s feet, in hopes of knocking the other out of balance. The boy only responded with a small jump to avoid Draco’s leg, and gave a kick of his own.

Draco gasped, feeling the boot come in contact with his ribs. He skidded back, the boy coming between the window and him once again. The raven stood tall, and unhindered, while Draco stayed down on a knee, a hand pressed up against his ribs, trying to ease the pain of the boot.

His other hand wavered close to the cuffs of his torn jeans. Draco sucked shit at hand to hand combat, and the raven would probably overpower him in seconds, but that didn’t mean that Draco was going to make it easy. The least he could do was give Blaise some time to escape.

He’d never killed a living person before. He wondered if it would be any more different that ending an unfortunate. The thumping of his heart didn’t help calm his nerves. Maybe if he just pretended the green-eyed boy was an unfortunate it would help. If it came down to it, he’d have to do it, or try dying. For Blaise. _Anything_ for Blaise.

Draco flicked his eyes up, pulling the hidden knife out from the strap under his jeans, and swiped at the raven. The other stepped back in surprise, bringing a hand up to keep the hand from his Blade met flesh, and the other winced, as it sliced his hand, blood spilling out from the wound.

Guild pulsed through his veins, but Draco pushed it aside, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to pour from his eyes. _‘C’mon Draco,’_ he thought, taking another swing of the blade at the boy, this time digging deep in his forearm. _‘For Blaise.’_

It was an excuse, and Draco knew that. He was scared. _Terrified._ Unfortunates were not pretty, but humans....humans could be worse. _So much worse._ Blaise made sure to remind him that every now and then, just to quiet his want to meet others. He knew better now, and wanted nothing more than to leave, even if that meant killing the boy in front of him. And if blaming Blaise for that made it easier, than so be it. It wasn’t as though Blaise would ever know.

It was selfish, and for now Draco was more than okay with that.

Tears blurred his vision, and threw off his aim. He blinked vigorously, trying to get rid of his temporary disadvantage, as a few tears spilled from his swollen eyes. It was dark, so the other wouldn't be able to see his pathetic breakdown, and somehow that put it him in foolish relief.

Twisting back, he aimed for the raven’s face, only to be stopped mid way. The raven had his wrists in a speed that was much too impossible for a normal human. He winced, as he was harsly spun around, and pressed back against the other’s chest.

The raven tightened his grip on his wrist that held the knife, and growled as a warning. He could hear the creaking of his bones as they were crushed harder. Draco didn’t dare let go of his knife.

Snarling, the raven dragged him out of the bedroom door, all the while Draco struggled. He twisted, squirmed, kicked, and trashed in the frightening hold. Hell, he ever tried biting. Turning to the ways of the unfortunate. Draco was desperate.

“Stop,” the husky voice commanded, Draco didn’t listen. Couldn’t listen. He let out a slight whimper, as pain shot up his wrist, and yet, Draco refused to let go of the knife. It was his only source of security. The only thing he could trust.

With a final attempt of despair, he stomped his foot down upon his captors’ foot, hoping the grip would loosen. It only tightened in return, and Draco was sure if those fingers held any tighter, his wrist would snap in two.

Broken bones were never a good thing. First there’s the pain. Then the infection, and finally death. A horrible way to go, but still better than being turned into an unfortunate.

The raven growled behind him, and Draco froze shutting his eyes and letting go of his struggle, but keeping his hold on the knife held tight. He wouldn’t let go of it. _He wouldn’t._

“Draco–”

Draco snapped his eyes open. He recognized that voice from anywhere. _Blaise._ All hopes of escape shattered then, crumbling to the ground like glass. His hopes weak, and fragile.

There was Blaise, struggling in the dark against the hold of another male. Red hair, and pale skin. A blade of held up against Blaise’s throat and it made Draco’s heart drop. _‘Don’t...please don’t. I-I can’t lose another...’_ he begged silently, his mind raging and screaming in the silence.

A woman appeared out of the darkness from behind the red head, and Blaise. Beautiful. Something he didn’t think existed in this world. Her unruly brown curls were put in a high ponytail, with soft wavy bangs coming to her eyebrows. He could make out a tattered knitted sweater, fit snugly against her body, with a satchel slung around her thin waist. A scarf hanging loosely from her neck.

Draco turned his attention back to Blaise, who gave him a guilt drenched look. Draco tried to smile, but his lips wouldn’t move. His _body_ wouldn’t move.

“ _Drop the knife,_ ” the raven behind him ordered, and as if on cue, the redhead dug his knife deeper into Blaise’s neck. “Or your friend over there–”

Draco didn’t allow the other to finish. Instead, he let his trembling hand go limp, the blade slipping from his fingertips, and clattering onto the hardwood floor.

“Told ya you weren’t going to get away.”

Draco swallowed, and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I didn’t fucking doubt it.” This was definitely _not_ like the movies...


	2. Surviving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Blaise have a one-sided bonding moment with their captors.
> 
> Warnings: Some descriptions of gore (not much)

“Psst...hey! Hey Blaise....psst,” Draco tried, dragging his feet forward in a tired manner.

“ _What?_ ” Blaise snapped back, in a more hushed whisper.

Draco twisted his hands in his bindings in annoyance. “When do you think they are gonna let us go?”

The raven in front of him paused, causing Draco to bump into his back. “Let you go?” The raven questioned, turning around.

Draco hissed, snarling at his captor. “Listen here, you asshole. This is a _private_ conversation! Quit snooping in!”

Blaise snickered, and his captor gaped in disbelief. “I-I wasn’t snooping in!!”

Draco gave a crooked grin. “Yeah? Don’t seem like that to me. Seemed like you were pretty intrigued with our little _private_ chat. You even started asking questions.”

The raven stuttered, face heating up the tiniest bit. “That’s not it!! You’re like..two feet away from us. You can’t exactly have a private conversation even if you wanted to!”

Draco sneered. “ _And who’s fault is that?_ ”

His captor didn’t reply, instead turning around and giving a sharp tug to the rope to get him walking again. All the while, Draco glared at his back, silently hoping it would pierce a hole straight through his back.

His current situation was not by any means comfortable. He doubted Blaise’s was either. Roped were tied around his wrists. The ones on his ankles giving him little walking room. His captor held the rope attached to his wristed, often giving a small tug if Draco slowed down, or said something out of line.

It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t able to walk at his best with his ankles and wrists tied. Not his fault for not having eaten or drinken any water or food in the past two days. Wasn’t his fault that his heart was racing with anxiety bubbling at his very skin wondering when these people were going to feed them to the unfortunates, or when Blaise would die or when he would die. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t. It wasn’t. _It wasn’t._..I-It couldn’t have been h-his fault...

The soles of his feet were blistered, and his eyes drooped threatening to close and give up on Draco then and there. He hadn’t slept for the last three days. Not since the incident. He’d offered to take up on ‘watch-duty,’ knowing Blaise needed sleep more than he did. But that was before they were captured by this group, and tied up.

There was no way he could sleep here, or even think of it. They needed to escape, and soon. He couldn’t miss their chance of escape for wanting to catch a breath, or rest for an hour or two.

“Walk faster,” came a growl from the raven, and another tug on the rope. Draco stumbled forward, close to giving up then, but he forced himself to stay upright. Glaring at the back of his captor’s head, he snarled.

“Maybe if a _certain somebody_ didn’t tie our feet, we would be able to walk faster.”

“Quit whining.”

“Quit whining?! You’ve kidnapped us, and you expect me to quit _whining??_ Jesus Christ, what is _wrong_ with you people.” It wasn’t much of a comeback, but in Draco’s defense, he hadn’t slept for 74 hours. Fuck him if he wasn’t exactly on par with his sassiness.

“You stalked us for miles, and were going to steal our supplies. Pretty sure that’s more than enough reason.”

“To survive! In case you haven’t noticed, we are in the middle of a _fucking apocalypse!!_ ” Blaise snorted, and Draco spared him a weak glare. “Just let us go...we won’t bother your lot again.”

“No can do, Blondie,” the brunette spoke. Her voice course, and rough, unlike how he would’ve imagined it to be. She looked far too _delicate_ for such a commanding voice, but then again, he supposed the apocalypse had changed all of them in some way or form.

Draco was about to spit out a smart remark, but Blaise beat him to it. His voice remaining calm and collected. “And why’s that?”

“You know too much,” she replied back.

Draco twitched, his hands curling weakly into fists. _“We don’t even know your name!!”_ he exasperated.

“Names Hermione,” she said. “The redhead holding ur friend is Ron, and Mr. Grouchy Pants in front of you is Harry.”

Draco took in their names one by one. Repeating them over in his head to make sure he didn’t forget them. Names were important. It was the only thing they could call they own. Only thing you can leave behind in this world.

“Where’s the fourth one?” Blaise spoke in a hushed whisper. “There were four of you.”

“Oh, you mean Luna?” Red head...or rather Ron said. “She’d up ahead of us on look-out.”

Draco blinked at those words. They would send someone alone on look-out? “To send someone alone...isn’t that dangerou–”

“–She can handle her own,” Harry cut in. “Now, enough about us...”

Draco looked over to Blaise, who remained quiet. They both understood the unsaid question. This group had told them things about them...now it was their turn to pay back. To tell the three something about them. “What?”

“Names,” Harry demanded, and Draco wanted nothing more than to bash that stupid face in against the wall.

Draco glance back over to Blaise, who shook his head. They couldn’t afford to trust them...at least not _yet_. “I’d tell you...but I don’t like to be labeled.”

“What. Is. Your. Name,” Harry emphasized, his voice turning angrier dropping a few octaves as growls emerging from the back of his throat. He sounded almost...feral.

Draco swallowed the lump of fear, and let out a small mocking whine. “ _Can’t you ask an easier question?_ ”

He could hear Blaise trying to stifle a laugh, and grinned when the raven turns around to meet him in the eye. Draco didn’t dare back down. He gazed right back into those _ugly_ emerald eyes, almost challenging the other.

Mullet head opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the brunette.... _Hermione, was it?_ “Harry–stop...we’ll talk to them back at the base.”

“Base? There are _more_ of you?” Blaise whispered almost awed by the idea. No one had groups that big anymore. They’d all been infiltrated, and taken over. Some separated...others dead. Mauled until all who ceased to be a part of the group were nothing more than piles of guts, and bones.

Hermione didn’t reply, instead tapping into her com, and mumbling something he couldn’t quite make out. Maybe Blaise could...he didn’t know. His head was spinning, knees wobbling with every agonizing step. Draco peered at Blaise with lidded eyes, his head swaying. He stumbled a bit, before coming back up, and taking another step, eyes fixated on the hazy figure of his friend.

Blaise was saying something...he couldn’t hear. The noises had dulled down in the background, his ears now filled with a light buzz. Exhaustion swept through every cell in his body, and cold sweat dripped down his back.

Maybe he could just give up now? Just let go for a moment... _just this once._ His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he fell, the ground rushing up to him. It collapsed upon him with a hard grunt. The pain shooting up his shoulder, and down to the throbbing of his feet.

He could see Mullet head turning around in shock, reaching out for him, while Blaise struggled against the ginger’s hold, while Hermione was yelling something into her coms.

He wanted to give up...just not care for a moment. Perhaps even get a nice dream...or maybe sleep forever. He didn’t know. But as the darkness crept up upon him, Draco found himself not caring.

It was selfish and for the moment, Draco was more than ok with that.

 

_-o-_

 

Draco woke up cold. Something he had become all too familiar with. His hand had been moved behind his back, legs bound tight together, and he groaned as a piercing pain shot up his spine to the back of his head.

Breathing in a musky, dense scent he opened his eyes slowly flinching away as the light pierced through his sight, blinding him momentarily.

“ _Fuck,_ ” was all Draco could manage as he took in his surroundings. He wasn’t bound by rope, but chains in a place infested with unfortunates.

They were around him, merely an arms length away, and he was an arms length away from them. That’s what terrified him. They were so close. _Too close._ Fear pulsed through his veins as an unfortunate shrieked at his awakening and reached out to him. The unfortunate stopped a little more than a meter away, chained to another pole in this dungeon-like room.

Its eyes were pitch black, one half gouged out dangling off sickeningly by a single thread of fibre from the sockets. Wrists, and ankles were swollen, and shredded down to bone in an attempt to escape. The unfortunate gaze bore deep into his eyes, looking for something he couldn’t make out.

Draco let out another yelp when he heard more chains clanging from around him. More unfortunates reaching out for him, but stopped only by the chains. They surrounded him in seconds, and Draco stopped. The air. The sight. Rotting flesh, and blood. The saltiness at the tip of his tongue, and the stench. Gods, the stench.

It filled him, overflowing at the tip of his lungs. Smothering him. They shrieked and snarled, and Draco sobbed, curling up as though it would protect him.

“Please..please...stop...” he muttered, trying to press his face further into the ground, trying to block out the sound. It was horrible, disgusting.

Draco wanted to close his eyes, but something kept them open. He didn’t _deserve_ to look away. _They_ didn’t deserve it. He’d failed them, and this was his punishment.

Draco wasn’t sure exactly how he had failed them, or why. He just knew it was somehow his fault. Maybe if he’d seen the signs before the first outbreak. Maybe, if he’d taken a right instead of a left, then he would've seen them, and maybe he could’ve saved them from turning. Maybe if he’s put his attention to formulating a cure rather than selfishly trying to survive. He didn’t know.

His lower lip trembled, as he breathed in the hatred. The rage they held for him. The tiniest bit of hope hidden underneath the inky blackness. As though they thought Draco could help them.... _save them._

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I-I can’t... _I’m sorry._ ”

And as though understanding what Draco had said, they cried. Screaming and snarling at Draco with the rage Draco still hadn’t gotten used to.

He wanted out.

He wanted to leave, and _never_ come back. He didn’t want to see their faces again or even bare the tiniest glance. _'Go away,’_ he wanted to yell, but all he that came out were incoherent slurs.

Please. Get him out of here. Take him away. Wrap him in warmth, and safety that Draco had yet to learn. Just get him out. Draco couldn’t breathe, let alone make sense of the world around him. He was suffocating. Drowning. The waves trashing upon him, taking his under the current, only to pull him back out. If he stayed under, he knew he would eventually find peace, but the waved always pulled him back above. Breaking the surface, and giving him a taste of life, before sending him back under. It was cruel, and he wanted out. Out. _OUT. OUT!!!!_

 

Please, somebody.

 

_...Anybody..._

 

The door slammed open, and Draco snapped up with wide wet eyes. Light came creeping in as the unfortunates turned their attention from him to the man before them. They were louder than ever now, clawing at each other, and screeching as though trying to communicate. Draco almost smiled at the silhouette of a man standing at the doorway.

Harry.

The raven came sweeping in, moving around the reach of the unfortunates, before finally reaching Draco. Harry stared down on him, with a scowl on his face. That’s when it hit him. This wasn’t his saviour. This was his captor...kidnapper and probably also the one who had put him here.

Draco let his hopeful look turn to a more angry and furious one. “ _You!_ ”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“You put me here!!” Draco accused, flinching away from another hand that reached out for him.

Harry rolled his eyes, seeming almost unaffected by the unfortunates around him. “For starters, you should be thanking me. I dragged your pathetic, sorry arse back here when you collapsed onto the ground like a weak ass bitch–”

“–Gee...I wonder who it was that kidnapped me in the first place! And I'd much rather be out there then spend another moment _here_.”

Harry gritted his teeth, and continued ignoring Draco’s little interruption. “Second, we don’t have time to go through the whole _‘tell me the truth or else..’_ system. Mione’ figured you’d be more willing to talk _after_ you get a taste of what would happen to you if you refused. Didn’t feel the need to waste time in asking politely first..so here we are!”

Draco glared. “I ain’t tellin’ you shit, Mullet Head!”

“ _M-mullet head?!_ ” the raven stuttered for a moment, before putting that scowl back onto his face. “Well, then. You can stay here with the freaks until you agree to what we say.”

The raven turned to leave, and Draco was almost torn in two. Harry was going to leave him...leave him back with the unfortunates. None the matter...as long as Blaise was ok. That was all that mattered. For now, Blaise was everything. “Where’s my friend?”

The raven stopped, turning around slightly, and giving Draco a wide grin that only spoke trouble. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He’ll be joining you here soon enough.”

“NO!” Draco yelled, his voice dropping down to a low growl. “ _You wouldn’t dare_.”

Harry walked back to him, and crouched down to his height. He tapped Draco’s cheek mockingly, who in return just pulled away from the touch. “Oh, but I would.... _unless–_ ” the raven paused, green looking over to meet silver. He hadn’t needed to say anything else. Draco already understood.

“Only in one condition.”

His kidnapper frowned narrowing his eyes. “Normally we don’t negotiate with thieves, but I’ll make an exception.”

“You let us go.”

The raven laughed ad though Draco had just told him a joke. “No can do, Blondie.”

Draco glared, and took in another deep breath trying to keep his mind away from the fortunate that were still currently surrounding them. Chained maybe, but Draco still didn’t feel safe. “Fine...but you will not touch my friend, and let him go. You dare lay a hand on him, and I’ll kill all of you. _Every single one of you bastards._ ”

Harry stayed quiet for a few moments, before running his hand through black unruly hair, and nodding slowly. “Alright...but _you_ have to do what we say.”

“Deal.”

His captor grinned widely, and Draco swallowed the small lump of anxiety that had found its way up from the queasiness in his stomach. “What do I have to agree to?”

The raven’s hand shot out, and Draco scrambled back flinching away from the calloused hand. Harry froze for a moment, before reaching behind his waist, pulling him close. For a moment Draco though he was hugging him, but when the weight on his hands fell, and the chains fell to the ground, Draco changed his mind. Harry was taking his chains off. They fell one my ne, clattering to ground. The rustling of the chains louder than that of the unfortunates.

If they were angry then, they sure were now. Draco was being pulled away from them, and maybe that’s what made the unfortunates mad. Or maybe it was the fact that he was the one being freed, when Draco truly didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve such treatment. Didn’t deserve to be freed or let go. If anything, he should be left to rot with the unfortunates. The ones who understood him best. The ones who knew how selfish he was. How cruel and sickening he’d become.

“What do I have to agree to?” Draco asked again, when the raven pulled him up by the arm. Draco’s mind dazed for a bit, and he stumbled forward only a moment away from falling into the unfortunate grasp.

Harry grabbed him by the waist, keeping his up while dragging him around the unfortunates, and towards the door. Just as they reached the door, the raven glazed back, meeting Draco’s eyes. He flashed him a toothy grin, and his eyes gleamed with a shade of green he couldn’t exactly make out. “ _That’s a secret, Blondie._ ”

“Don’t trust me, Mullet?” Draco asked, catching a glimpse of something above his captor’s right eyebrow. Foundation? No..concealer. What would the raven need concealer for? Maybe a scar or a cut..... _a bite?_ Draco almost let out a gasp, but before he could determine what exactly it was underneath the concealer, his captor turned around facing away from him.

“Wouldn’t trust you even if the world were to end,” Harry spoke, chuckling at his own irony.

What had Draco gotten himself into?

None the matter. Blaise was alive. He was alive. And as long as they were alive they would still  be surviving, and _that_ was all that mattered. _He just had to survive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two!! It's not as long as the first chapter, but I hope you guys like it!  
> See a mistake? Tell me! Both criticism and suggestions are appreciated!


	3. A Revolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco had the golden trio have a small interrogation session that turns a tad bit violent.
> 
> Warnings: Suicide thoughts, Implied/mentioned suicide, violence, some gory descriptions, flashbacks, self-worth, and interrogations.

They didn’t let Draco meet Blaise. That was the worst part about this capture. He didn’t know where he was, hell alone how far away from the surface he was. It was dark...and cold.

It wouldn’t surprise him if they’d put him in a cellar. The thing that did surprise him though, was how they managed to secure such a place. It was huge...and securing such a huge place must have meant they had a big group. Groups like that didn’t exists anymore. at least that’s what Draco, Blaise and Pansy liked to think. It was easier to go on with that mindset. Made it easier for them to stay away from larger groups, or as they liked to call it ‘pockets.’

Not quite a city...or a town. Not normal enough to be a gang, but not religious enough to be a cult. Nothing about them could be associated with the normal human slang for groups, so they stuck with pockets. Pockets...were dangerous.

That was something they’d learned a long time ago. They weren’t going to repeat their mistake again. Not again. _Never_ again.

That was the oath the three had taken together, but looking back at it now, it didn’t seem they were given much of a choice. _‘Sorry Pansy...looks like I couldn’t keep our promises afterall,’_ he thought as the door that kept him captive creaked open.

It was an awfully ugly sound. Metal straining against itself, and sounding much like how nails would on chalkboard. Light came creeping in through the crack, revealing a tall freckled lean boy. Couldn’t be much older than him...but a lot more fuller. Draco didn’t know exactly how to put it in words, but he could tell that the other was well fed..and not in any lack for food. “Carrot top!” Draco exclaimed, not really remember the other’s name.

That was the other scary things about pockets. They were able to gather so much food..for so many people, but there were questions. So many questions. Ones that he hadn’t thought about in his previous pocket. _How? Where? From who? What did you do to obtain it?_

The thought alone made Draco want nothing more than to bash the others head in...but he supposed he couldn’t blame them. Humanity doesn’t exist in this world. In this world, it’s hunt or be hunted.

Draco and Blaise preferred to be more of the vultures, that scavenged off things that the predators had left behind. It didn’t make them any better than the predators, but it sure did help them feel a whole tom lot better about themselves.

“Up up, Blondie,” the redhead spoke, pulling him up from his armpits harsly. Draco let out a small groan, and yelp as he was lifted up, and placed on his feet, the chains still dangling loosely at his ankles. “Holy fuck, you’re light. What’ve you been eating out there, Blondie? Hardtack?”

In other words.. _.crackers._ Draco gave a sharp glare, a grin still dancing on his lips. “As a matter of fact, Carrot top. _Yes._ ”

“Quite clever for a Blonde, I must say,” the freckled boy responded, giving a slight shove forward to get him to moving. Draco winced, stepping groggily across the stone floor with his bare feet. Hell, they’d even taken his shoes away just to make sure he wouldn’t escape.

Going outside without a good pair of shoes was about just as good as trying to commit suicide. One cut to the sole, and that could lead to the deadliest of infections, and in the worst case scenarios turn you into an unfortunate if they come in contact with fresh unfortunate blood or saliva.

They walked in silence through the dark, musky hallways. Stone floor, and stone walls, stone pillars. Stone. Stone. Stone. The same old cold samp stone receding all the way down the dimly lit hall. Water dripped from the dies, falling onto the group in platters. Sometimes, Draco wondered if it really was water...and not the blood of those that were now long gone.

Overall, the place was secure. Secure than most places would be, but just like any other hideout, the danger was still imminent. If this base was to be swarmed by Unfortunates then, where would they run? Did they have a exit? An escape route? A second base?

“What’s up in your head, Blondie? Can’t have you going on mute on me now can I?” Carrot top spoke, startling Draco out from his thoughts.

“Why’s that?” Draco asked more teasingly than serious, but the redhead went on. He truly hadn’t expected his question to be answered. It was not usual of kidnappers to tell their captives of their plans, or answer their questions and yet here they were.

“You know something.”

“Me?” Draco laughed off, tugging the sleeve of his sorn up shirt further down his wrist. The concealer was still there. It’d last him only about another night, before it starts to smudge revealing the mass of black hidden underneath.

Carrot top narrowed his eyes, studying him with a calculated gaze. “How long have your and your friend been...out there?”

Draco blinked, a rush of relief passing over his chest. They didn’t know...not yet. And that gave him some time. Draco let out another husky chuckle. “What is this? A walking interrogation session? Aren’t the big ol’ kidnappers supposed to wait for the rest of the group before all this questioning?”

There was a moment of silence before the other replied. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Draco mentally cursed himself for being as dumb as he was now, but then again could you blame? He hasn’t had “ _human_ ” contact with people other than Blaise, Pansy, and Theo in a long time. He wasn’t exactly on par with his “ _human_ ” skills.

This was going to be a long day...if it was even day.

 

_-o-_

 

“Let’s start off simple shall we? What’s your name?”

Draco looked around, avoiding his gaze from the brunette. “You alone here, Granger? Where’s all the others?” he asked, trying his best to avoid answering the questions. That earned him a blow to the head.

He let out a small cry, feeling the metallic taste spread like wildfire through his mouth. He spit out a glob of blood, and brought his head back up to give the other a toothy grin. “Feisty.”

“What is your name?” Granger repeated, Carrot top simply leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking more amused than one should. Maybe it was just Draco didn’t transform properly in this world. How...how was it someone could be amused watching another hurt? Was that how they worked now?

And the more and more he gazed at the two before him the more Blaise’s words seemed true. He should never have doubted his friend’s words. This world was cruel. There was no more ‘nice’ people anymore. He knew that, then why did he still doubt it so much?

Another sharp pain exploding to the side of his jaw, reeled him back from his thoughts, leaving him hacking and coughing on the floor below. The ropes dug deep on his wrist, and the chair rough, and cutting ragged scraped against his pale structure.

Red dribbled out from his swollen lips, pooling up on the floor. Draco let out a small groan, pulling himself back up from the hunched position on the floor. “D-does it really matter?”

Another hit.

“Your name.”

“Legolas.”

Another hit. “This is no time for games, Blondie. You either answer the question, or next time, it’ll be your friend that gets it.”

Draco gulped. Should he take that risk? Should he tell them...would they really bring Blaise into this? They couldn’t....right? “I’m surprised you know that reference. S-seems like you all are not just stuck up nerds t-that have never watched Lord of the Rings afterall.”

Draco wanted to hit himself for them. Why would he say that? God damnit..his people skills have really hit a rock bottom. The brunette gave him a unamused glower, before turning to carrot top. “Go get the other.”

“NO!” Draco blattered out, sounding more frantic than he should have. “Don’t....please..”

He lowers his gaze to the floor, contemplating on whether or not he should be revealing such information to them. He could lie. They wouldn’t know. They didn’t have to know...as long s Blaise kept up with it...they would never know.

“Sylas,” Draco mumbled. “My name...it’s Sylas.”

Granger let out a small satisfying smile, and walked closer up to his tied up self. “Now, that wasn’t so hard now was it, Sylas?”

Draco looked away, mumbling a harsh, “no.”

“Good boy,” the brunette patted his bruised cheek softly. Gods, Draco hated her already. “What’s your friends name?”

Draco paused for a moment, not speaking and then returning Granger’s questions with a soft number. “..Layne..”

“Good. Why were you stealing from us?”

Draco gave her a disbelieving look. Did they not know that they were in the middle of a fucking apocalypse..and usually that means needing food to survive. “We needed food?” he answered confused.

“Why?” she snapped back, as though trying to

“I don't know. Maybe because some of us need to fucking eat to survive!?” he exclaimed sarcastically.

The brunette let out a small growl slamming her hand on the back of the chair next to Draco’s head. Draco flinched, jumping slightly. “Listen here Sylas, I don’t want any lies out of you. Which group do you belong to?”

Draco blinked confused. “You mean...which Pocket?”

“Same thing Blondie, now speak!” she growled, spitting at Draco with spite that he’d only last seen in the Unfortunates.

“Pockets don’t exist anymore!” he tried, trying to drown himself in all that Blaise had told him. “They’re all gone. Dead.”

Another agonizing smack. “I’ll ask you again. Which grou–Pocket do you belong to? Who’re you working for?”

Draco gulped down the bile in his mouth. He coughed as the wetness dribbled down his dry crackling throat like fire burning the thin sheet of crumpled paper. He swallowed again, wincing at the sting that hurt more than the throbbing on the side of his jaw. “I-I told you...they’re all dead,” he rasped.

Another hit, and Draco swore he could hee stars. His jaw rattled slightly, blood dripping out from the corner of his lips. “Try again.”

 _“..dead..”_ he whispered begging the Brunette to stop, but she remained relentless. Hitting him once again. “..I’m not..l-lying...”

Oh, he was lying alright, but Draco hated them...Gods he hated them so much. They were no better. No better than the _others_. He wished they would just leave and never return. He didn’t want their food or water no more. Blaise and him could find it elsewhere. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes, but Draco blinked them away refusing to breakdown for this ruthless people.

“What’s got our Blondie all bruised up, Mione’?” Draco shot his head up to look at the owner of the new voice. Black hair, piercing emerald eyes, and the classic 90’s mullet. The raven was standing next to Redhead, looking no less amused than the other.

“Blondie here persists on lying,” Granger rambled out, more polite, but Draco could still taste the poison in her words. Oh, how he wanted to lick it all up, swallow it till it turns him into nothing but a shell of his own body. It was would be easier. So much easier. But he’d made a promise...they’d all made a promise.

“Lying, eh?” the raven walks forward leaning down to come to eye level with him. “What’s your name Blondie?”

Draco gulped, trying to crawl further back into the chair, but in no avail. The man reached forward grabbing his jaw in a bruising grip forcing Draco to keep his gaze locked with the raven, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out in pain. “Name Blondie,” the Raven stated out, no longer a question but a demand.

“Sy-Sylas,” Draco muttered keeping up with his lies. “Sylas.”

“Well _Sylas,_ ” the raven went on. “Remember that deal we’d made earlier.”

Draco’s mind went back to their previous deal. He’d agree to do what this man would tell him, but only if they’d let Blaise go...only if they’d leave him alone. That was the deal. Draco nodded shakily. His gaze trailed up to the foundation covering the raven’s forehead. There was something underneath there. What? He didn’t know...but Draco could guess.

The hand on his jaw squeezed and Draco returned his gaze back to the raven’s eyes. “Good. Now...we’ll leave your friend alone, but you’ve got to give us a few honest answers here, ok?”

The voice was menacing, cold, and even more poisoned than that he’s heard with Granger. Shivers ran down his spine and he nodded again not trusting his voice to speak.

“So...what were you doing out there, before we had our meeting together?”

They...they were running. Running because they were hiding. A betrayal like that would have killed in a way worse than turning into an unfortunate. Back there, turning was more merciful than being caught. So...they were running. Yes, running...but they’d been running or over 2 years now...maybe even longer. He couldn’t tell for sure. He remembers Theo. The first one of their group to be shredded to pieces. He remember Astoria. Their first kiss. _Their last kiss._ Draco remembers Vincent and Gregory and Marcus and Millicent and Adrian. How they’d lost them back at the mall. How’d they’d all gotten separated at the mall, and hadn’t seen each other since. Hell, Draco didn’t even know if they were still alive. Then he remembers Pansy. How they left her back in that warehouse, and he could only hope she made it out alive.

He remember their promise. _‘To survive at all costs.’_ After Astoria’s suicide, they’d promised another such incident wouldn’t occur. Not again. Astoria had always been afraid of such a thing. She’d been brought up in a strictly catholic family, much like Draco. Anyone that committed suicide would go to hell. That’s what the two of them had grown being taught. Astoria was terrified of the thought of going to hell, but now that he thinks of it...maybe hell was better than what they were living in now.

It didn’t matter now. They’d given her a proper burial nonetheless. Now she was but a distant memory. Draco refuses to remember before those two year. He didn’t want to...and he didn’t have to.

“R-run–looking for food and w-water,” Draco stutters correcting himself.

“Hmm...what were you running from?” Draco wanted to swallow himself. Of course the raven wouldn't let go of that little mistake of his.

He licked his chapped lips. “T-the u-unfortunates, of course. O-our hideout got c-compromised.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but they haven’t had a full complete hideout in months. The last one still secure, but back on north. It was far and it was safer to try their chances here than to try and trech on back up north.

“How big is your hideout?”

“It’s temporary...just a spot for the night.”

“I see,” The raven mused. “Where’s your _actual_ hideout then?”

“We don’t...have one anymore,” Draco rasps out, choking on his own spit.

The man before him narrows his eyes. “We?”

Shit.

“M-me and B–Layne.”

“ _Your friends name is Layne?_ ” the raven tries again as though trying to give him one last chance.

Draco nods unsure of what the raven has planned. What Draco hadn’t expected was more exploding pain, this time sprouting from the width of hs stomach. He coughed attempting to topple over his aching stomach, red spilling from his lips like water.

“I want the truth here, _Sylas._ ” the raven growls, pulling his back up by the hair, and pulling hard. Tears leaked from Draco’s eyes, pain growing by every waiting moment. “You think I didn’t have a chat with your other friend before I came up here?”

Draco trembled under the harsh touch, breath escaping from his parted lips in small pants. “You know what he told me?”

Draco shook his head, convulsing. Was it always this cold?

“You see, we had a nice little chat, that turned a tad bit violent. “We got a little bit, but unfortunately, your little loyal friend passed out on me.”

Draco snarled at that, reaching up to snap his teeth at the raven, who only returned the anger with a sinister smirk. “You promised! _You promised you wouldn’t touch him!!_ ”

“And you promised to be truthful. I guess we both broke our promises, now didn’t we? So how about we start again, and your friend wouldn’t have to go through that again.”

The raven pulled up a stool next to him, sitting down, and leaning a fist on his cheek. Draco slumped his head down in defeat. He’d be honest...for now. If it kept them alive, then so be it.

“Alright _Sylas_. My name is Harry, what’s yours?”

“Draco.”

“Draco does suit your more than Sylas ever would, now doesn’t it?” Draco didn’t reply to that. “What’s your little buddy’s name?”

“Blaise.”

The raven gave a pleased smile. “Now...why were you stealing from us.”

“Needed food.” Draco kept his answers short, careful not to reveal anything he didn’t want to.

“Ok...for whom?”

Draco gave a small glare. This conversation was going exactly as it’s gone with Granger. “Who do you fucking think? We needed to food because we ran out. Blaise and me.” He leaned his head back in defeat. They weren’t going to believe him. Whether he told the truth or not. They were never going to fucking believe him.

“Pockets...tell me about them,” the raven asked instead, rather than going onto accusing him.

Draco gulped. “Dead...they don’t exist anymore. Everyone’s dead. They were all overtaken by the unfortunates. T-those who survived are now scavengers or in pairs. Pockets are g-gone.”

“Liar!” Granger blattered out, accusingly. “He’s lying Harry! You know he is!!”

Draco winced slightly, his surprise turning to anger. “Oh yeah?! What do you fucking know? I’ve been out there 2 years. Two years, and it’s just me and Blaise!! Don’t give me that ‘he’s lying’ bulshit! You don’t know anything!! _YOU KNOW NOTHING!!”_ Draco yelled, voice cracking and rasping, but he continued nonetheless. “And judging by the way you guys are reacting to this...you’re probably new to this city, aren’t you?”

The raven–Harry closed his eyes out of annoyance or defeat. Draco couldn’t tell. “We are not!” Granger persists, tongue dripping with poison.

Draco only let out a small chuckle in response to that. “You _are_ new. If you weren’t, you would’ve killed us by now,” Draco paused for a moment, his voice going quiet. “. _..or worse._ ”

Harry before him raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

“There are those who’ve survive but they’re no better than the Unfortunates themselves.” Draco spoke in a hushed tone. “They have no more humanity. This city...this city tore that away from them.”

“ _What about you?_ ” Harry spoke carefully, and Draco went rigid.

Was there still an ounce of humanity left within him? A small bit...maybe the slightest touch? His mind crawled back to the woman that lay chained, snarling and only moments from turning. The glass walls that kept them all contained, and alive in a living nightmare. He remembers Sarah. She was only 7...and crying sobbing incoherent slurs of words she’d barely learned to speak. He remembers watching her get better. He remember that hope...that glimmer of hope shining in the child’s ink black eyes. When he’s returned later that night waiting to see Sarah with that dazzling smile of hers, he was met with horror. She’d clawed her eyes out...with her own very small hands.

Sarah no longer remained, but she left behind a gargling, convulsing child’s body. Draco had never felt more sick. He remembers.

He remembers snooping in his mother and father’s negotiations with their new boss. He remember betrayal, and pain and heartbreak. He remembers running away that night. How he’d gotten his friends together, how they’d shut down the entire facility, and how he’d stolen the one serum that could decide of the survival of mankind. He remembers feeling like a hero. He wanted to be a hero.

Pain came next. The death of his friends. He remembers them pushing his mother into the hoarding pile of Unfortunates. Remembers her screams as they ripped her apart, bite after bite. Remembers the sadistic cackles that followed. He remembers hiding the serum...running away from the cursed object once and for all. He remembers running, because only he knew. He’d told no one...not even Blaise.

He remembers being a failure. _A coward._

“I suppose it tore us apart too,” Draco whispers to no one in particular.  _“It tore us all apart.”_

The trio remained quiet before him, and Draco raised his head to look at them. “How did you all manage to secure such a place..if you were new here.”

Carrot top by the door flashed him a toothy grin, and the two others followed. “That’s where you're wrong Blondie. Unlike you, Hermione here wasn’t lying. We aren’t new.”

Draco furrowed his eyebrows confused, and Harry decided to relieve him of the suspense. “We all started off here, but we’re returning.”

“W-why would you return?” Draco stammered. They had gotten away from this city...no one gets out of this city, and now they’re breaking back in? Draco had begged to find a way from out this city, but from what Draco and Blaise knew, there could be the _others_ patrolling at any place around the edge of the city, and they'd refused to take the risk to get out. Right now, it was all about survival, and they’d managed to live more than 2 years in this same city that tore them apart...why try their luck elsewhere? “ _W-why?_ ”

Emerald green met silver, and Harry flashed him a broken grin. “You know more than you let on, Blondie, so you’re going to help us.” The raven left no room for argument. It wasn’t a question..or request. It was a demand. Plain and simple...nothing more. Nothing less.

“What are you going to do?” Draco question not daring to break eye contact, and Draco swear what follows next made him almost shit himself.

 

“ _We are going to start a fucking Revolution._ ”

 

 

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is late, but I'm moving and that's taking up a lot of my time, and I haven't been able to write as much. I hope this chapter makes up for it, and I also hope it gives some insight into Draco's past. 
> 
> See any mistakes? Tell me!
> 
> Both criticism and suggestions for the plot are greatly appreciated!


	4. The Punchline

Draco feared the thought of being forgotten. It kept him up all night, wondering if tonight would be his last. It was a scary thought. Knowing that these stone walls might be the last thing you see before you go, or maybe the open jaws of an unfortunate as it came down on you.

“Can’t sleep, Blondie?”

Draco rolled his eyes, and craned his neck to look at the raven standing by the cell door. “No, I’ve been sleeping just fine on this cold, _wet_ , hard floor. Never felt anything softer.”

“Oh quit being sarcastic, it isn’t that bad,” the raven muttered, running a hand through his hair, and Draco peeked closer to his forehead, wanting to confirm whether or not his suspicions were true. And just like that, the raven removed his hand, allowing his hair to fall onto his forehead in wisps. “Better than out there.”

Draco let out a small snarl, feeling the need to laugh crawling up his throat. “And this is any better?” he finds himself asking, lips curved up in disbelief.

“How isn’t it?”

The raven is curious, but it’s not for Draco...it’s for the intel that Harry knows he holds. It wouldn’t make sense for them to keep them here otherwise, wasting both water and food, even it was just barely on them.

Draco lets out a scoff. “Why are you even here?”

“Bonding?” the other replies, shrugging.

“Bonding huh?” Draco asks, not sure exactly to whom...or why. “They don’t that here.”

Harry pauses, freezing up, and turning to Draco with a sharp snap of the neck. “They?” he asks suspiciously, and Draco wants to be laugh at his pitiful state.

“Oh quit being paranoid over everything. They is just my term for people we haven’t met here...or people who are still survivors,” Draco mutters, reeling the conversation off course again. They needed information. Draco needed information. It was only a matter of whom needed it more. “How’d your lot break in.”

His voice is softer...almost fragile, and Draco notes his own weakness. Don’t get him wrong. He’s trying. Trying to keep up this facade...and be all hard, unbreakable, stainless steel. “Why do you want to know?” Harry asks, and Draco almost wanted to smack him for asking such a stupid question.

“Why do you think?” Draco lets out a sneer. “You think we want to spend the rest of our lives stuck in this hell hole? Five years has been more than enough, trust me. You broke in through the walls... _how?_ ”

“You survived 5 years trapped in this city. _How?_ ”

Draco swallowed. Five years sounded a lot, and without joining a pocket its near to impossible. “You tell me. You survived didn’t you?”

Harry doesn’t reply to that, instead looking back to the wall. “We didn’t stay _here_ for _five_ fucking years, Blondie. But you did...” his gaze falls back to Draco, studying, trying to find any signs of lying, “...so tell me. How is it you managed five years in this hellhole without being bitten or... _worse._ ”

“Being bitten is the worst thing,” Draco argues.

Harry scoffs, letting out a small snarl. “Quit changing the subject.”

Draco rolls his eyes, wondering what his next move should be. Should he tell them? Tell them about the mass of black running up the white of his arm. Tell them about the cure...if it even was a cure. Nonetheless, Draco liked to think it was what could save them all. Gave him hope for a future...a _reason_ to survive. “We weren’t alone,” he started, catching the raven’s interest. “Our group had been bigger. There were thirteen of us.”

“Were?”

“Six died.”

“And the rest?”

He didn’t know how to reply to that. Were they dead...were they alive? Draco didn’t know...he fears he’ll never truly know. “ _I don’t know,_ ” he croaks out, voice so quiet, Harry wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for the pin drop silence in the chamber.

He waits for an insult or perhaps another punch for his “lies”. Instead he’s greeted with two pair of hands reaching behind his slumped figure, wrapping their arms him, and for a moment, Draco thinks the raven is comforting him. It’s a foolish thought, it only proves him wrong as the bindings wrapped around his wrists fall loose, dropping to the floor behind him one by one.

“What are yo–”

“I’m getting you out of these ropes,” Harry interrupts him, backing away. “Get up, Blondie.”

“What?”

“Don’t wanna get out of here do you? Into bondage maybe?” Harry mocks, before letting out a small chuckle at his own joke. “C’mon, follow me. Unless of course, you’d rather stay here. Wouldn’t mind seeing you tied up all day.”

Draco flushes a light red in surprise, before glaring at the other in disgust. The jokes were horrendous, disgusting even, full of dark humour that Draco understood all too well. “No.”

“Lighten up a little, Blondie. It’s just a joke.”

Laughter echoed across the empty silence, and Draco wonders if the raven is right. If all this is just one big joke, and someone would pop around the corner with a camera laughing at his pitiful state. Draco wouldn’t even be angry. He’d be so fucking grateful. He follows the raven wondering... _hoping._ A joke.

_Just one big fucking joke._

 

_-o-_

 

“Get rid of it,” the man muttered stepping over the dead body, and walking towards the discarded bag on the concrete floor.

His henchmen scrambled forward, putting a clean bullet through the unfortunate still gnawing its way through the girl’s stomach. In all, it’s disgusting. The girl lay, her parts scrambled across the cold floor, brains splattered across the pillar behind her, with a gaping hole going going through her skull, all the way from underneath her jaw to the tip of her head.

The man scavenges through the bag, filling, pulling out a few water bottles and a scarf. Nothing. He motions to the followers behind him, and they begin to reach in to the body’s pockets, searching...and as the hand pull out, holding a folded paper, the man lets his lips curve.

He snatches it from the pudgy hands, opening the crumples mess, feeling warmth spread across his chest. He lets his fingers trace over the figures in the photo, and looking over to the mass of unrecognizable flesh. He smiles sadly, feeling a sense of loss...failure. Knowing he hadn’t been there fast enough to save her.

“Gather the body. We are going to give it a proper burial.”

“..But, sir–” one of the boys stammered.

“Did I ask for any questions?” he speaks, and they go silent, gathering the bleeding mass up in their arms.

He pockets the photo in his jacket, looking around the closed off warehouse. The two doors had been blown open, the girl undoubtedly being trapped. He takes note of the gun on the floor, not daring to dwell too much on the thought. _They’d promised._

They had promised to survive no matter the cost, but he doesn’t blame her for putting a bullet through her own head. To survive took a strong will...and the fear took over, and the want for a peaceful end overwhelmed the want to survive.

So he didn’t blame her. It was human. To be scared and overwhelmed and angry and....and done. She was still human and so he wasn’t angry...not at her at least. He supposed a part of him is human too.

The feeling of relief when he say that it was her...and not Draco. It was okay to bring worth to one’s life more than another’s...right?

It doesn’t matter, he supposes. He just had to find Draco and the others. They lost someone everyday, and her life would not be in vain and it would not be forgotten.

He picks up the marker laying not too far from her body, and writes on the wall. Writes and writes, until her name is bold and bright and high for everyone to see. He writes it once. Twice. Over and over again, covering the entire mass of the concrete floor and the pillar where she’d been laying.

From the corner of his eye, he can see his men begin to drag the body out of the warehouse, shooting nay unfortunate that had the misfortune of approaching them.

“Sir...what do we put on the marking?”

“Parkinson..” he mumbles softly. “Pansy Parkinson.”

And he continues writing...until the ink fades away from the marker, her name whispering away with the black.

 

_-o-_

 

The first thing that Draco registers is the noise. And this time it isn’t the deafening silence, but voices and words and music. Laughter echoing across the walls, and Draco gasps. There were...people. Living. _Breathing._ People.

Men and women and _children_.

And that’s when it hits Draco. “ _You...you came back for them,_ ” he found himself whispering, awed. He didn’t think...couldn’t bring himself to _believe_ this was real. Sooner or later he’d wake up cold with Blaise by his side, all alone. And that would be a real fucking punchline, wouldn’t it?

It wasn’t fair. Rather...it was cruel. He’d been in this city for five years, and in five years, he had never seen anything like this. Never seen such an unorganized group of children, laughing and enjoying their asses off as thought he apocalypse had ever hit. As though there weren’t flesh thirsty monsters just outside these metal walls.

“H-How?” Draco finds himself saying, when the raven beside him gave no response. “How did you manage to stay hidden with _this_ many people. How..are you all even alive?”

“We have our ways.”

“And what exactly are those ways?!” Draco was getting frustrated. The desperation and need straining loudly in his voice.

“Not yet, blondie. You haven’t earned out trust.” The raven clicks his tongue and Draco resists the urge to punch the asshole.

 _And you’ve earned mine?!_ he thinks, clenching his fists until the nail dug into the soft of his palm, threatening to tear open, and spill.

“I want to see Blaise,” he says, tearing his gaze away from the makeshift heaven in front of him. Oh if, Blaise knew...if only he could see _this._ Maybe...maybe then they could trust them enough to stay. To stay and never look back from the road they came from.

“No.” there is no hesitation in his voice, and Draco can tell this isn't the first time they have done this. “ _You_ are coming with me.”

Draco walked carefully on the concrete floor, fearing his every step for the chance of breaking skin. Getting a cut on your feet was one of the most foolish mistakes one could make in this new world.

Harry had taken his shoes. It was smart, and it ensured his captivity even without all the bindings. Going out with a pair of shoes was as good as suicide.

His fingers tremble, clinging desperately to the cup of water they had gifted him with, and he didn’t to waste a single drop of the pure nectar. He took another sip, feeling the cool slide down past his crackling throat like honey. It was oddly sweet. He wonders if it’s just his thirst or if they had added something to the water.

Harry didn’t let Draco get close to the crowd of people waiting in a circle, instead opting to drag him away, into a deep underground tunnel. He wanted to talk...and touch and laugh together with them all. Wanted to feel what it was like to be close to another human other than Blaise.

They came to a slow pause, and Harry crouched down, to lift a heavy concrete door off from the tunnel floors. Underneath was a pair of stairs, leading further and deeper into the ground. The cold beginning to tingle up his spine, to the soles of his feet.

Draco stared wide eyed at the chain of stairs. Was this how they stayed out of sight? Burrowing themselves under a massive underground system. Who had been here before them? What had they done to make this place their home? He followed, curiosity shrouding his instinct to run, and never look back.

“Where are we going?”

“My room.” Harry replied after a beat and Draco felt his heart thunder. Rooms? _They had rooms?!_

Underground it is like a maze, winding and turning around in a unorganized manner, reminding Draco much of the past. Grey concrete walls, illuminated by a single string of lights running down the halls.

It’s not long before they stop, and Draco is greeted to a small gray metal door. It isn’t before Draco notices the big bolt on the door handle, does he move back, but Harry has his wrist in an instant.

He knows escape is futile whether he ran or not, but he couldn't help but feel the fear crawl up to the tip of his fingertips, telling him to run. To run and _never_ look back. Just like he did before. Just like he’s doing now.

The door flings open, and Harry shoves Draco inside. He stumbles, trying to regain his footing. He looks up, feeling suffocated around these gray walls.

No windows...just a small light, and it’s all too familiar, dragging Draco farther and farther back to when the virus had first broken out, and he remembers. He remembers everything. His betrayal. The reason for his mother’s death. The reason his friends died...the reason they were still hunting him, and he wants to run...and run... _and run..._

He takes in a sharp breath, a piercing screech reeling him back to the present. It’s all too familiar. The same screeched he heard every morning come. The same wailing sounds that lulled him to sleep at the brink of night. “Please don’t tell me that was what I think it was.”

The raven rolls his eyes, closing the door behind him. “Oh quit being dramatic. We can’t get rid of _all_ the freaks down here, so we just have to learn to share.”

Draco’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “ _Share?!_ ” he yelled in a hushed whisper, the fear of alerting such a creature gnawing at his bones. “Are you fucking crazy?!”

“I prefer the term creative, but I suppose that works too.”

Draco didn’t know what to think...he was _stuck_..in a confined room, with a psychopath and unfortunates running just across the hall.

“You scared?”

Draco doesn't reply. Doesn’t want to give this fucking mullet the satisfaction of knowing. Instead, he opts to falling onto the bed before him, feeling his muscles begin to water at the soft touch of the mattress. Fucking hell, they had beds. _Beds!_

Harry lets out a chuckle, and sits across from him. “I suppose you can sleep here..unless of course, you’d rather sleep on the floor or in the hall, but there is no guarantee that you won’t see a freak or come across a few rats. No promises.”

Draco swallows backing up closer to the wall, trying to stay as far away from the raven as possible, which wasn’t that much, considering it was a twin-sized mattress. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, dropping like rocks in his stomach. They wouldn’t do that...would they? He turns around, facing his back to the other, and closes his eyes, not daring to fall asleep just yet.

It was just to avoid more conversation, Draco told himself, but even he knew his own lies. The bed was comforting, and Draco was a fucking selfish human being. If Blaise was taking a nice long nap than so can he. It’s only fair...besides what could a few hours hurt?

There are no blankets he notes, shivering, and feeling the cold envelope his body like a second layer of clothing, but he doesn’t ask the other for any. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of his pride. He’s handled the cold before..and this was nothing. Nothing at all.

The door was locked, and secure...and if anything, he had this tall-ass human right next to him. Another inhuman scream pierces through the air, and Draco winces, closing his eyes tighter, trying to shut out the outside world once and for all.

“Don’t worry,” Harry’s voice echoes across the room. “I’ll keep you safe. _They are scared of me.”_

He doesn’t dare ask why.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!! I know it's kinda late...very late, and I apologize for that. I thought I had updated this...but I hadn't so yeah...Hope you guys liked this chapter? Also..if you guys don't understand anything, just ask below in the comments. I'll be more than happy to clear it up.
> 
> See a mistake? Tell me! Both criticism, and suggestions for the plot are greatly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> First time doing a zombie AU. Welp, I hope you guys enjoy reading it!
> 
> PS...Pinterest in amaaaazing for these story prompts.  
> See a mistake? Tell me! Both criticism and suggestions are welcome!


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